Self Sacrifice
by TK Catsby
Summary: Now a twoshot! Steven gets punched in the face and doesn't take care of it properly. Kind of StevenxOC, though the OC could also be the main girl character of R/S/E. This might turn into a collection of shorts.
1. I Would've Felt Bad For Him

**Now a twoshot! I wrote this chapter more than a year after writing what is now chapter two, and I really don't like it as much. Ah well...**

**I don't own Pokemon. If I did, fourth-gen would've been a hell of a lot cooler.**

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Nobody saw the punch coming. One moment, I was staring defiantly at the grunt in front of me; the next there was a fist flying towards my face. There was time to react, Steven proved that to all of us, but I guess I was just too slow. I was too weak.

So Steven picked up the slack. I watched, my mouth open slightly in shock, as the fist connected with his cheek. There was an audible crack, and for a moment, time seemed to move in slow motion. Steven staggered back, one hand immediately flying to his face as a few drops of blood hit the ground. I could see it already trickling down his jaw from a gash stretching across his cheek. For a moment, he swayed dangerously, blinking and shaking his head, probably trying to clear the dizziness away. I was at his side in an instant, one hand hovering hesitantly behind his back in case he fell, but he seemed to recover after a few seconds and he shook me off in the most polite way possible.

I took a step back, knowing he wanted some space, and that he would be a _lot _worse off if bone wasn't where it was supposed to be. His startlingly grey eyes were focused now, and he was giving the man in front of him a look that I was sure would cause most plants to wither. The grunt only glared back, a smirk on his face, flexing the hand he had just nearly broken Steven's jaw with. The Team Magma ring on his finger gleamed a sickly red.

I wanted to kill him, but, from the looks of it, not as much as Steven wanted to. I could practically feel the fury radiating off of him, and for the first time, he made me uneasy. He was, in all honesty, scary as hell. If the grunt _hadn't _just punched Steven in the face, I would've felt bad for him.

As it was, I didn't feel bad for him at all. In fact, I couldn't help but grin when Steven slowly, deliberately, took a poké ball out of his pocket.

I definitely didn't feel bad for him at all.

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**Gotta' love Steven getting... punched in the face? Yeah...**

**Reviews appreciated!  
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	2. Fault

**I wrote this chapter a _long _time before the first one, so that's why the writing sounds a bit different.**

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"Does it still hurt?"

Steven quickly pulled his hand away from his throbbing cheek, glancing up at the girl standing over him. "I'm fine," he muttered, putting on a false smile, "It's just a scratch." _There's no way she'll fall for that. _He continued to smile until he felt something wet trickle down his cheek. Swearing mentally, he placed his hand over the wound again. It wouldn't be good if he got blood on his jacket.

The girl sighed and reached into her pocket for a handkerchief. "Here," she stated, sitting down beside him, "Let me see." She pulled his hand away, ignoring his protests, and peered at the wound. A small, but deep cut stretched from one end of his cheek to the other, and was still stubbornly oozing blood after nearly an hour. "You're and idiot, you know that?" she told him, prodding the wound none too carefully.

He hissed in pain before letting out a short laugh. "I get that a lot."

"That's not a good thing."

"Would you have preferred for me to let you get punched?"

"Yes."

He frowned at that. "Guys are tougher that girls," he told her, "I doubt you would've gotten off with just a scratch."

"Steven, it's not just a scratch," she said, "The whole right side of your face is swollen."

"All the more reason for you not to have taken the hit. Besides, it wouldn't have been so bad is he hadn't been wearing a ring."

"But he _was _wearing a ring," she pointed out. With an exasperated sigh, she took he bag off of her shoulder. "You're going to get yourself killed some day, you know that?" she mumbled, rummaging through her things until she found a bandage. She placed it carefully over his cheek and then taped it securely. "There," she muttered, "You should take that off after the bleeding stops. It'll need some fresh air."

Steven nodded, placing a hand on the soft square. "Thank you," he murmured, suddenly quiet. Propping himself up with his hands, he leaned back and stared out across the sea. Moonlight reflected off the surface of the water, creating a display almost like fireworks on the horizon. They sat in silence like that for a while, content with simply being in each other's company. Finally, she stood up, brushing the sand off her skirt and hugging herself.

"It's freezing out here," she mumbled, rubbing her arms.

Steven stood up beside her and glanced at his watch. "I'm sorry to keep you out so late," he said, placing another smile on his face, "Thank you, really."

She glared at him, shook her head, and said, "That's not right, Steven."

He stared at her for a moment, a look of confusion on his face. "What?" he asked, "Did I say something wrong?"

"You shouldn't be thanking me."

"Why not?"

"You got hurt because of me!" Her voice cracked, a look of distress evident on her features.

A look of understanding flashed across Steven's face. "It wasn't your fault," he told her sternly, "_I _was the one that protected you. You never asked me to, I just did it. I moved without either of us even thinking about it. So don't go blaming yourself." He smiled again. "Besides, it's really not much more than a scratch."

The girl snapped at his last comment, finally letting a single tear roll down her face. She swore under her breath and looked down at the sand.

They stood there for a moment until Steven finally couldn't bear the tension anymore. "I'm sorry," he murmured, putting his arms around the girl in a somewhat awkward hug.

She shook her head and buried her face in his shoulder. "That's my line," she muttered, voice muffled. It was moment before she rubbed a few remaining tears out of her eyes and stepped out of the embrace, looking up at Steven with red eyes as she did so. "I'm sorry."

Steven held back the "What for?" and settled for, "It's fine." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked out at the sea again. _Why is she getting so worked-up over me? _His eyes flickered back to her tear-stained face and rumbled clothes. Pink tinged her cheeks.

Then she sneezed, kind of ruining the moment.

"I should get home," she said, quickly turning to leave, "See you around."

Steven watched her go, silent. He was getting kind of cold, but decided he couldn't go home until she was out of sight.

After all, he lived in the same direction. Walking right behind her would _really _ruin the moment.

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**I'll probably keep expanding on this over time.**

**Reviews appreciated!  
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